Too Late to Care
by Lioness's Heart
Summary: It's been ten years since Sarah Williams ran the Labyrinth and won. She left her mark on the Labyrinth, and on the Goblin King...Can he overcome an false accusation that could mean his end?


**Disclaimer: Labyrinth does not belong to me, end of story.  
A/N: This was my first try at writing a Labyrinth fanfiction...I don't think it turned out as it could have, and I know I probably got at least a few things wrong. Also, this is a oneshot...I'm not planning on writing any more for this fic, but enjoy it all the same! And don't forget to review, please! **

* * *

Immortals like Goblin King Jareth cannot die by illness, by poison or by age. There is but one way for an immortal like Jareth to die, and that is in battle. By the blade, they can be killed like any mortal man, but only by a blade. Only one or two have ever been killed in battle. Most of those that died by sword or dagger were killed in a duel or assassinated. But of the few that have died in battle, one stands out in particular: the master of the Labyrinth…

The morning had dawned bright and clear the day the Elf King attacked. The elf stormed into the Goblin King's throne room while Jareth watched something in one of those crystals of his.

"You took her! You took her!" The other Fae king called, angry and panicking. Jareth's response was a frown. He raised an elegant brow.

"I took whom?" He asked calmly. He was not amused, for he had not taken whoever it was. Nor had he heard any calls to take a child away. All he had done for three days was stare at his crystal, watching the young woman who had stolen his heart years before. She was the only one who had ever conquered his Labyrinth.

"My youngest daughter! Her brother said he wished her away to the Goblin King, and the next thing he knew, she was gone. Give her back, please!" Tears formed in the Elf King's eyes. Jareth glared at him coldly. No such emotions had graced the Goblin King in many years. Not since he'd been defeated by a mere mortal. Not since he'd lost his heart to her.

"I do not have your daughter. I have heard no summons, and I have not taken a wished away child in five days." The Elf King stared in disbelief.

"You liar! You took her, I know it. If you do not give her back, this is war!" The Elf King was furious now. He was sure that Jareth had his daughter. He knew it. No one else could have taken her – only a Fae king could enter his castle and steal a child without his notice. And no other Fae ruler left glitter behind when he'd been somewhere. Jareth had to be lying.

"I. Do. Not. Have. Her. Get out." Nothing seemed to be able to break the Goblin King's calm. That is, until his fellow leader refused to remove himself.

"No."

"GET OUT!" Jareth raised his lithe body from the throne, and glared at the other Fae.

"This is war, Jareth. I want my daughter back." The Elf King stormed back out a moment later.

Jareth stood there for a moment. "Then war it is," he whispered to himself. It did not matter to him whether he was at war or not. Desolation, anger, sorrow – they had all tormented him for the last decade. He would deal with war as he had dealt with everything in those years: with an iron-cold will. Heartless was one of the words his subjects now used to describe him. It was the only word they knew that could describe him anymore.

The battle raged around Jareth. Goblins and elves fought with swords and daggers, each sort of creature trying to kill the other. The Goblin King was magnificent in metallic black armor. With his wild blond hair pulled back, his mismatched eyes glittering, and a sword fit for his rank flashed in his hand, he was a terrifying picture.

Many elves fell by his hand, fighting for a cause that was purposeless. They wanted to rescue their king's daughter from the Goblin King, but he didn't have her. The field outside the Labyrinth was furious with the pointless fighting. Jareth didn't care. No matter how much he was injured, he still hurt more inside. He honestly wished that Sarah Williams had not triumphed over him and his Labyrinth. Somehow, he'd fallen for the girl. That had even surprised him.

For three years after her victory, Jareth was close enough to the front of her mind that he could visit her. That is, until she'd forgotten him enough to believe that it had all just been a dream. He wished that it had only been a dream.

It had been so much harder to rule his kingdom since then. He never knew if the Labyrinth was good enough, or that he was the best ruler that the goblins could have. She'd been a major blow to his confidence for the first few years. After those first few, he'd given up wondering about those things, and just gotten on with it. No one else had managed to best the Goblin King, ever. He'd never really gotten over it – he'd never really gotten over Sarah.

A sword flashed in front of him. He looked up, and there was the Elf King. The other monarch was clad in burnished silver armor, and was not happy. "Tell me where she is," he hissed venomously. Jareth brought his sword up to defend against the elf's blade.

"I don't have her," the Goblin King hissed back. Their swords were a blur of motion, steel clanging against steel. They were both excellent swordsmen, but one of them would have to tire eventually. Unfortunately for Jareth, it was he who tired first.

His sword slowed fractionally, but it was enough that the Elf King knew that his opponent had tired enough that he could attack and possibly get through. The elf's sword flashed forward, slicing through the Goblin King's guard. The sword sliced through Jareth's armor, and into his ribcage.

His vision exploded in stars when the sword penetrated his skin. Cold was instantly pressing against his mind. Shock colored his expression, sorrow filled his eyes, but fear was not present. He was not afraid to die. Then he would be free of the pain that had tormented him through the years.

In that instant, the Elf King realized his mistake. Jareth really hadn't held his daughter. A wave of anguish swept over the monarch as he watched his onetime friend slip to the ground.

With his dying breath, the Goblin King whispered one word, one name - the one that had tortured him for years, not with pain, but with the love that he had never known that he could feel.

"Sarah…"

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Twenty-five year old Sarah Williams stood at the stove in the kitchen of her apartment. The pot that she was stirring was giving off copious amounts of steam. It was the result of a weeklong wish for beef stew while the snow fell.

A sudden clatter from the bathroom jerked her attention from the stew. She looked up and glanced toward the room. There couldn't possibly be anyone in there, could there? She carefully placed the spoon on the counter and went to investigate the sound. No sooner than she was almost at the door when it swung slowly open. When it did, a small figure walked out cautiously, eyes wide.

"Hoggle?" Sarah stared at him, her eyes as wide as his. This was unbelievable – he couldn't be real. Her long-forgotten adventure in the Labyrinth had been a dream, hadn't it? He jerked around and stared at her.

"Sarah?" He asked. She nodded in response. The dwarf looked down, clearly upset about something.

"Hoggle, what are you doing here?" She asked. Hoggle looked back up at her again, a sad look on his face.

"I – I – I came – it's just, I came to tell you, Sarah. It's…" The dwarf fiddled nervously with his jewel bag for a moment. "Jareth's – the Goblin King is – Jareth's dead."

Sarah stared at him, too shocked to move. That couldn't be true. He couldn't be dead. Jareth just couldn't be. It wasn't possible. Was it? For years she'd thought the Goblin King to be but a dream, a nightmare based on that book that she'd loved so. It hadn't been. It had been as real as everything that had happened since then.

"But – no. No! That can't be true! Tell me it's not true, Hoggle! Tell me that this is just another one of Jareth's tricks and that he's alive and laughing at me." Hoggle shook his head sadly. Sarah stared off into the distance for several moments, more shocked than she ever would have thought she could have been.

She hadn't realized it, but she had been harboring a sort of affection for the annoying, vain, spoiled Goblin King. She hadn't realized that until now. Now, it was too late to care. Jareth was dead, and not even the Fae could come back from the dead.

Sarah gulped and nodded. Tears began filling her eyes. "Thank you, Hoggle. I appreciate that you came to tell me." The dwarf nodded and retreated back to his world. Tears started streaming down Sarah's cheeks. It was too late to care. That was all that filled her mind as she wept for the Goblin King. She just wished that she could have spoken to him one last time, to say goodbye.

"Oh, Jareth…"


End file.
